


If You Love Something

by Bookkbaby



Series: Happy Anniversary [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 10:36:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookkbaby/pseuds/Bookkbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the morning of their anniversary, Cas wakes up to find a note on Dean's side of the bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Love Something

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt by turquoise-candy: Dean sends Cas on a scavenger hunt to find a special anniversary present. Or something ;3;

> _“If you love something, set it free; if it comes back it's yours, if it doesn't, it never was.” -- Richard Bach_

_  
_

The bed was cold when Cas woke up. Well, not precisely ‘cold’, but it was only half as warm as usual because the bed’s other occupant was gone. Cas grumbled a bit, both at the cold and at being denied one of his favorite sights in the world; Dean’s sleepy morning smile.

It was a common enough sight, true, as Cas had shared Dean’s bed for exactly one year now, but still a treasured one.

He was more than a little tempted to just roll over and go back to sleep. He and Dean had exhausted each other the night before with a round of what Dean had called ‘pre-anniversary sex’. Cas had suspected the pre-anniversary sex would be followed by a round of anniversary sex this morning, and this evening, and then post-anniversary sex tomorrow. Dean never really needed an excuse, but he also never failed to take advantage of one when he had it. Cas didn’t mind. He enjoyed closeness and intimacy with Dean in whatever form they took.

Apparently, anniversary sex would have to wait.

He spied a piece of paper on Dean’s pillow. He blinked, frowned, and reached for it. He unfolded the small square sheet to find a note in Dean’s handwriting:

_Made your favorite._

Cas blinked again, slowly, then smiled despite himself. He pushed himself up and out of bed, then bent to grab a pair of discarded sweatpants from the floor. He pulled them on and grabbed his robe on his way out the door, heading for the kitchen.

 

As Dean’s note had promised, there was a place set at the table and a foil-wrapped platter set in front of it. A bowl, covered with plastic wrap, was set next to the plate, and a pitcher filled with what Cas assumed was coffee rested next to Cas’s favorite ceramic mug.

No sign of Dean.

Cas sighed and sat at the table. There was a small package on top of his plate. He set it aside, planning to unwrap it while he ate, and reached for the platter.

As expected, there were several crepes, perfectly smooth and still steaming gently, beneath the tinfoil. He smiled and peeled a few off the top.

The bowl held sliced strawberries, still cool from being in the fridge. Cas heaped a few generous spoonfuls of fruit into each crepe and then rolled them up. He poured himself some coffee and began to eat, ‘mmm’ing appreciatively at the taste even though there was no one to hear. The strawberries were sweet and perfectly ripe and the crepes were soft and delicious.

Dean, though, was still conspicuous by his absence. Cas ate a few more bites of his crepes, eyeing the package Dean had left for him.

It was rather small, perhaps twice as large as his fist, and wrapped a bit messily in nondescript brown paper. There was a small piece of it folded over and, flipping the top open, Cas could see it read simply ‘Happy anniversary, Cas’.

He set down his fork and, still chewing on a bite of strawberry, began ripping at the paper. The box gave him just as little information as the wrapping or the card had; it was just plain cardboard.

Cas tugged open the top and pushed aside the tissue paper that Dean had used to protect the box’s contents. It crinkled.

Cas’s breath caught.

There was not one item in the box, but two. One was a small, black velvet box. The other was a glass vial, a very familiar glass vial.

Metatron had used it to steal Castiel’s Grace almost a year and a half ago. The last time Cas had seen it had been when they’d finally stormed Heaven and taken Metatron down, just eight months ago.

At the time, Cas had given it to Dean for safekeeping. He hadn’t wanted to ‘angel up’ again, not when it meant leaving Dean for Father-knew-how-long. Not when being an angel again meant possibly being trapped in Heaven, stripped again of his free will.

There were times when Cas had meant to ask Dean about it, as the months had gone by. He just hadn’t, mostly because he still didn’t know what he wanted to do with it. There were days he longed for his old strength, his old freedom, but if he had to give up this in trade…

He tore his eyes away from the brilliantly glowing, achingly familiar Grace and looked at the other item. His heart tripped over itself inside his chest and he tentatively reached out to touch it.

It looked like a ring box. It looked very much like a ring box.

Cas lifted it out of its tissue-paper bed and popped it open. Inside, as he had suspected, was a simple golden band. Hands shaking, he set it down again. The ring glinted innocently up at him.

For a while now, he’d wanted this. He hadn’t told Dean, too anxious that voicing a desire for commitment would make Dean draw back. Cas had convinced himself that he could be contented with what they had, reining in his jealousy every time a woman noticed that Dean wore no ring on his left hand and sent him a drink at the bar.

Cas didn’t need a wedding or their vows to be voiced out loud. He’d made his in his heart long ago and he could hear it echoed back to him every time he and Dean touched. All he’d wanted was tangible proof of their bond.

And Dean was offering it to him.

Cas looked at the gifts before him. Was he supposed to choose? His Grace, or Dean?

But no. There was nothing on the short note telling him to pick one and, digging through the rest of the tissue paper, nothing buried further down telling him to make a decision. This wasn’t any kind of ultimatum.

This was Dean allowing Cas his  _freedom_.

Cas could take just his Grace, become an angel once more, and he knew that Dean would never speak of the ring again.

Cas could take just the ring, return his Grace to Dean, and delay the decision to become an angel again until next time it was offered or he asked where Dean kept it.

Cas could take neither, leave them both wrapped up in their box, and things would remain just the way they were. The ring would disappear, either sold or hidden away, and Cas’s Grace would be again stored wherever Dean kept it.

Cas could choose  _both_ , be an angel and Dean’s husband, and have his wings again. He could give Dean whatever time Heaven did not demand of him and balance this life he’d come to cherish with his duties to his brothers and sisters.

Or…

Cas could choose both, but each in their own time. He could place the ring on his finger, seek out Dean, and keep his Grace safe in the vial until they were both old and grey. He could have this life with Dean and, when it was their time, he could make the ascent to Heaven on his own wings.

That was the beauty of it. Cas could have whatever he wanted; all he had to do now was take it.

In the end, Cas didn’t even need to think.

He lifted the ring box again and carefully tugged the gold band free. He slid it onto his finger, a shiver more excitement than cold running up his spine at the chill of the metal. It fit perfectly and he stared at it for a moment. He realized he was smiling when his cheeks began to hurt.

He pushed himself back from the table, leaving the rest of his breakfast uneaten. He left the box behind as well, the vial of his Grace still nestled among the tissue paper.

He would move it somewhere safe later. For now, he wanted to find Dean and wish him a happy anniversary.


End file.
